


people less important than you

by arsiviqu (d_v_whelan)



Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Female Friendship, Second-Hand Embarrassment, Self-Insert, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-09 21:42:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17413247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d_v_whelan/pseuds/arsiviqu
Summary: it is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single woman with any respect for herself, must stay away from prideful young men.





	1. i

**Author's Note:**

> this is basically my pride & prejudice self-insert fanfiction. i'm not ever going to finish it but i worked hard on this, so. here you go. (i love you, lizzie, but i love darcy more.) title is from 'love love love' by of monsters and men.

_Dearest Jane,_  
_My family returns to Hunnisett Park soon! My father longs to return to educate the boys there this autumn, and Mother grows tired of Grant Manor, anyhow. I think I do too, and of Somerset in general, and how I miss your smiles! We leave in just six days, and should arrive in town by the 30th of September. I've heard no discussion of leaving any time after that, and I can only hope that we will not leave again! Or perhaps I will be married after I return to Hertfordshire, and then will not need to worry about which house I come to at all. Though talk of love and marriage can be saved for when we meet again, because we have much to catch up on that surely we could not have written all in these letters this past year. I do hope your family is well!_  
_Yours,_  
_Eleanor_

Eleanor set the letter on her desk to allow the ink to dry, and hurried out of her room and down the stairs to the dining hall. A servant rang the dinner bell as soon as she'd finished signing her name. Her mother would have a fit if she was late yet again.

Eleanor slid into her seat at the table just as Mrs. Grant entered the room, and she eyed her daughter as she sat down across from her. Servants set trays and plates and cups in front of them. Aside from the footmen, her and her mother were alone.

"Where's father?"

"Preparing lesson plans," her mother said with a sigh. Saying nothing else of Mr. Grant, Mrs. Grant bowed her head and held her palms together.

" _Bless, O Father, Thy gifts to our use and us to Thy service; for Christ’s sake. Amen._ " 

Eleanor mumbled along, signing the cross once they'd finished then heartily dug in to her food.

"Must you act that way?" Her mother scolded her from across the table.

Eleanor furrowed her brows. "No one's around you must impress, ma'am. I'm just hungry."

"Maybe not, but we can't have you acting like that in front of everyone once we're back in Meryton. You're very much old enough for a husband, you know, nearly twenty-two! And I certainly wouldn't marry you off to any man around here." Mrs. Grant tittered, looking around as if at some imaginary Somerset men.

Eleanor sighed and continued eating, with less enthusiasm than before. "Of course not. But it's not as if there were many eligible men in Meryton, either. None I took any liking to."

"We haven't been there in a year, Ellie. Perhaps there are more bachelors there now. And besides, having been away so long, maybe you'll have grown more accustomed to the boys you used to know."

"What's this talk of husbands?" A male voice sounded at the rear of the dining hall and Eleanor turned around to see her father.

Mr. Grant sat at the head of the table and motioned a servant over, who filled his plate and cup. He started eating without saying grace, which earned a side-eye from his wife.

"We were just talking about returning to Meryton, sir. She seems to want to get rid of me as soon as we've settled," Eleanor relayed this to her father matter-of-factly. She grinned over at her mother playfully.

Eleanor and her father had always been particularly close, and as a tutor he'd made sure Eleanor was just as educated as any boy he taught. Mrs. Grant was sure to make it known to any other mother she met that her daughter was _very_ accomplished in several areas.

Mr. Grant and his daughter looked quite alike as well; where Mrs. Grant was mousy haired and brown eyed, Mr. Grant and Eleanor were all golden curls and blue eyes. Her height was one thing Eleanor acquired from her mother; the two of them often had to look up to speak to Mr. Grant.

Mrs. Grant scoffed at Eleanor's accusations. "Of course not! But you are our only child, and although I have no doubts your uncle would keep you if your father and I were to pass, I'd like to see you living comfortably in a house of your own before I'm — well, dead!"

Mr. Grant raised a hand, silencing his wife. "I intend to go on living for many more years, and I hope you do as well, so talk of this is unnecessary. Let us eat in peace."

Eleanor smiled to herself. Of course, that wasn't to say she didn't _want_ to get married. It was just that she didn't want to get married only so she could become the mistress of some grand house and be well assured that her every need would forever be taken care of because she'd caught herself a rich man. Marrying someone wealthy would be nice, there was no doubt about that, but it wasn't as if she needed it.

Eleanor was used to a life of wealth, after all. Her father was a teacher and a landowner, holding three estates; Hunnisett Park in Meryton, Grant Manor in Somerset, and Warsen Estate in Derbyshire which he rented out to his younger brother. 

Mr. Grant made about 6,000 pounds a year and had a large sum he'd assumed from his own late father. Eleanor was glad she had no siblings to ration out inheritances to. 

Eleanor had no need to marry rich, and besides, she and her childhood friend Jane had their hearts set on falling in love before they agreed to any proposal. 

Eleanor enjoyed dancing and playing instruments and singing as much as any girl did, but she also very much enjoyed reading and history and language. Speaking with any man who didn't know the classics was simply boring to her — as was speaking to any man who thought himself superior to everyone else in the room. 

However, where her friend Jane was all smiles and warmness, Eleanor was keen on speaking her mind. She certainly wasn't submissive to anybody, particularly men who liked to pretend they had a claim to women.

After they finished dinner, Eleanor hurried back to her bedroom to seal her letter and made sure to remember to send it off with a courier in the morning. She bid goodnight to her parents and retired to her room, promising to go to bed at a decent hour for once. She held to no such promise. For hours thereafter she scribbled away at her desk on what she'd believed for about the past six months could one day be a great English novel.


	2. ii

Just as Eleanor promised Jane, the carriage containing the Grant family arrived at Hunnisett Park on the morning of the 30th of September. Members of the household staff had arrived the day before to set up the house properly, and by the time Eleanor stepped through the front doors, it was as if she'd never left.

Hunnisett Park wasn't as grand as Grant Manor, but it felt more like home to Eleanor than anywhere else. 

Eleanor was born in Somerset in the town of Wynndale, but her father purchased Hunnisett Park when she was just five years old, when they found out that Mrs. Grant could have no more children. Around the same time, Mr. Grant bought Eleanor a tiny gray and orange kitten; Crusoe — naturally named after the literary character — had been her faithful companion for the last seventeen years. Eleanor did not like to think that he was nearing the end of his days.

The Grants lived at Hunnisett on and off for a few years while her father built a reputation for himself as a trustworthy and very qualified teacher for gentlemen's children. He'd graduated from Oxford some years before. In the summer and autumn of 1807, Eleanor resided with her mother's eldest brother in London.

For most of Eleanor's teenage years they resided in Hertfordshire, aside from her occasional visit to London. It was in 1805 that Eleanor befriended Jane Bennet, the oldest of four daughters and a member of the Bennet family who lived at Longbourn Estate just ten miles from Hunnisett Park. The rest of the family, Eleanor had to admit, were not especially her style, but their fathers and mothers were friends so they saw a lot of each other and she got used to them. It was impossible to ever get used to Mrs. Bennet's voice, however.

That afternoon, Eleanor took a carriage alone to visit Longbourn and greet her friend Jane. Though Mrs. Grant insisted that she wait until tomorrow, for they had only just arrived, Eleanor resisted and was well on her way soon enough. If she waited until tomorrow, that would mean an entire family outing. Eleanor simply wanted to speak to Jane alone.

The housekeeper Mrs. Hill opened the door and greeted Eleanor warmly once she arrived.

"Good afternoon, Miss Grant. It's a welcome sight seeing you in Meryton again. Won't you come inside? I'll put your things away and call on Miss Bennet."

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Hill. Of course." Eleanor smiled at the woman and entered, untying her bonnet and removing her spencer, which she handed off to Hill along with her gloves.

She waited in the drawing room for just a few minutes, making progress on the cup of tea a footman brought her. Soon Jane came gracefully down the stairs, a large smile upon her. 

Eleanor returned it; she had often thought it impossible for anyone _not_ to smile when they saw Jane Bennet's beaming face. The two girls pulled each other into a tight embrace.

"How I've missed you!" Jane exclaimed when they separated.

"As have I, Jane. How is your family doing?" The two went away to a sitting room to continue their conversation.

"Very well. My mother particularly after the latest news."

"Well, what news is that?" Eleanor leaned back on the couch, immediately feeling at ease there. Until she had to hear Mrs. Bennet's shrill voice, Longbourn made her feel perfectly content.

Jane laughed softly. "A young man named Mr. Bingley has rented Netherfield Park and has been here since a few days before Michaelmas, and will come to a ball in town on the eighth. My mother sees this as some divine intervention for one of her daughters marrying, of course."

Now it was Eleanor's turn to laugh. "How delightful! And funny, too, for my mother was saying just before we left that I ought to find a husband now. You can take Mr. Bingley, for you are obviously the most beautiful out of your sisters, and I'll take his brother."

Jane ducked her head and smiled at the compliment. "He has no brother, I'm afraid, but I hear he brings a great many ladies and gentlemen from London to the ball. Now, no more talk of that! We must catch up on this past year. We can talk of balls when we are there." The two women laughed again like they did when they were younger girls, both recalling tales from the past twelve months.


	3. iii

The assembly hall in Meryton was a welcome sight. Eleanor enjoyed balls and parties and all sorts of other public events, but the past year in Wynndale just hadn't been the same without her friends. Sure she had friends there, but it just wasn't the same making fun of poor singers or awful manners with people she only saw every once in a while.

Eleanor grinned widely as she was helped out of the carriage and made her way inside accompanied by Mrs. Grant. Mr. Grant had opted to stay home so that he might finish his lesson plans, though he usually chose not to attend parties anyway. He didn't see what amusement he could find in them as a grown, married man, and left the gossiping to his wife.

Mrs. Grant ran off to meet with friends as soon as they entered, leaving Eleanor to find her own way through the crowd. Soon enough she spotted Jane, and as politely as possible pushed past everyone, giving small curtsies and greetings when necessary. Everyone was glad to see her, and she them, but she really just wanted to get a look at this Mr. Bingley fellow.

"You look lovely! Green is a handsome color on you, Eleanor." Jane, who stood off to the side of the room with her sister Mary, greeted Eleanor warmly.

"Thank you! You look lovely as well, and you Mary," Eleanor said with a nod towards the sitting sister. With a quick glance about the room she saw that Kitty and Lydia were already dancing. 

"Thank you. It's good to see you. Though I'm sure you'd like to dance and socialize for whatever reason, we must discuss what we've read this past year once this party is over." Mary looked up at her blankly, not quite smiling but a far shot from the frown she usually wore.

Mary was an odd duck, and Eleanor was sometimes offended by her views on femininity, but she appreciated her thoughts on literature.

"I will be sure to visit tomorrow and we can do just that, Mary." Eleanor smiled and turned back to Jane. "So, where's this Mr. Bingley? Why isn't he dancing with you yet?"

"Oh, please, Ellie. He hasn't even arrived yet."

As soon as Jane spoke the words, a hush fell upon the crowd and everyone turned to see five finely dressed ladies and gentlemen at the door. They stood awkwardly for a moment, looking around, until finally Sir William Lucas — another estate owner near Meryton — came forward to greet them.

"Mr. Bingley! Allow me to welcome you to our little assembly."

Mr. Grant visited Mr. Bingley on the second day of the Grants being there, and Mr. Bingley returned the favor two days later. Though Eleanor saw nothing of him, for she was in town when this happened, she learned a great deal about him from her mother. 

Eleanor turned back to Jane and whispered to her. "Well he _is_ very handsome. Those women are his sisters from what my mother has told me, so luckily for us, it doesn't seem like Mr. Bingley has brought any London competition after all. The man behind him is very handsome too, I must say, but I'm not sure who he is."

Eleanor suddenly longed to be acquainted with all of them, and looked around for her mother. She didn't have to look very long before Mrs. Grant and Mrs. Bennet were upon both of them.

"Ja-ane!" Mrs. Bennet's piercing voice sounded above the music that was now playing and Eleanor winced.

"Do you see that tall man over there? Sir Lucas says—" Mrs. Grant tried to start but was cut off by Mrs. Bennet interjecting.

"He is Mr. Bingley's oldest friend, is single, has a large fortune, and a large estate in Derbyshire! Bingley's wealth is _nothing_ to his. At least 10,000 a year!" Mrs. Bennet looked quite pleased with herself.

The Grants discreetly exchanged a humorous look at the interruption, very much used to that sort of behavior but still no less slighted by it.

"Well, rich or not, he's very handsome, and so is Mr. Bingley. Though his sisters certainly look more pleased with themselves than anything they see," Eleanor noted, looking at the women with distaste, and particularly at the feathers in their hats that she found so tacky.

"Oh, they're coming over! Smile, Jane!" Mrs. Bennet whispered to her daughter, but like everything she said it was still very loud. She also eyed the Grants, apparently bothered by the fact they were still standing there and would also be introduced to Mr. Bingley.

"Mrs. Bennet, Mrs. Grant. Mr. Bingley would like to be acquainted with you and your daughters."

Mrs. Grant took hold of the conversation before Mrs. Bennet could. "It's good to see you here, Mr. Bingley. This is my only child, Eleanor." Eleanor smiled up at Mr. Bingley and curtsied.

"And this is my eldest daughter Jane!" Mrs. Bennet added before Mr. Bingley could respond, clearly wanting to throw all of her daughters at him so that he might forget Eleanor. Jane curtsied at her introduction. "Mary sits over there, and Kitty and Lydia are out dancing." Mrs. Bennet gestured to the center of the ballroom, where the two youngest Bennets were dancing with men much older than them.

"Do you like to dance, sir?" Mrs. Bennet continued, all but nudging Jane forward.

"There is nothing I love better than a country dance, madam. And if Miss Bennet is not otherwise engaged, may I be so bold as to claim the next two dances?"

Eleanor smiled on her friend's behalf. Of course it would have been nice to be complimented so, but she really was happy for her friend in that moment. She also noticed that Mr. Bingley's dark-haired friend had followed him over. He said nothing, standing behind him and glancing about the room.

"I am not engaged, sir," Jane replied, a blush creeping up her neck and onto her cheeks.

"Good!" exclaimed Bingley, and Eleanor couldn't help but notice that he smiled even more than Jane did. It was a handsome smile, too.

"You do us great honor, sir! Thank the gentleman, Jane," Mrs. Bennet said, nudging her daughter.

Mrs. Grant cut in to prevent Jane from being embarrassed by her mother. Sure, Jane wasn't her daughter, but Mrs. Grant was often herself embarrassed by Mrs. Bennet just by being her friend. She nodded towards the tall gentleman. "And what of your friend, Mr. Bingley? Does he enjoy dancing?"

Mr. Bingley looked confused, and with a brief look of surprise turned and looked at the curly-haired gentleman behind him. "Oh, I beg your pardon! May I present my friend, Mr. Darcy?"

The four women curtsied once more, and again Mrs. Grant dominated the conversation. It was much more pleasant than Mrs. Bennet talking. "You are very welcome in Hertfordshire I am sure, sir."

Mr. Darcy bowed in response, and finally Mrs. Bennet cut in, yet again. "I hope you've come here as eager to dance as your friend has."

He blinked, seeming unsure of how to respond. Finally he said, "Thank you madam, but I rarely dance." With that, he bowed and turned away before Mrs. Bennet could go on some agonizing spiel.

An awkward silence settled among the five of them, and Eleanor noticed that Jane's eyes hadn't left Mr. Bingley's face the entire conversation. That was a good thing, at least.

"Uh, pray excuse me, ma'am," Mr. Bingley said at last, bowing and walking away in the direction of his friend.

Immediately, Mrs. Bennet was seething. "Well, did you ever meet such a proud and disagreeable man!"

Eleanor couldn't help but scoff. "He will hear you, you know, ma'am." She hadn't found him to be all that proud _or_ disagreeable, really. He just seemed a bit shy if anything, or at least not too happy having been dragged to a ball. Not everyone enjoyed dancing, after all.

"Well I don't care if he does, Miss Grant! And to think his friend is so agreeable and charming… hmph! Who is he to assume he is so high above his company?" Bingley and Darcy were looking over at them, but it was unclear whether it was because they heard her yelling about Darcy or because they themselves were talking about the women. Eleanor assumed both.

Eleanor rolled her eyes discreetly. "Well, he's very rich, for one. Though I don't think he was acting particularly proud at all." Mrs. Grant would normally reprimand her daughter speaking out of line, but when it came to Mrs. Bennet, well… she could turn a blind eye.

Soon enough the conversation came to a close and the dancing began. Jane took to the floor with Mr. Bingley, and Eleanor chose to stay near the side with Mary so that she could watch them. They just met, but they certainly looked enraptured with each other. She had read before that opposites attract, but she had to disagree, watching the two of them. Birds of a feather, it seemed.

Soon after the dance ended she saw Bingley bringing Jane over to his sisters, and Eleanor couldn't help but grin. If Jane had only looked over Eleanor had half a mind to give her a thumbs up.

"That man stares at you quite a lot," Mary said from the seat near Eleanor.

"Pardon? What man?" Eleanor had been so caught up in observing Jane's interactions that she did not even notice Mr. Darcy standing across the ballroom, his gaze fixated on Eleanor's face.

"The tall one you were speaking to earlier. Well, he's looked away now because we've noticed him." Mary nodded towards him and Eleanor followed her gesture, spotting Darcy across the room.

"That's Mr. Darcy. Your mother says he makes more than twice as much as Bingley, but apparently he's fallen out of favor with her now since she was so offended by his not wanting to dance."

"I do not blame him. Dancing is a monotonous waste of time."

Eleanor chose not to respond. What she could say that would make the conversation any more engaging she had no idea, and she was now intrigued by this Darcy character. Though her mother usually admonished her for staring, Eleanor couldn't help but observe him. After all, according to Mary, he had been staring too.

He was taller than nearly every man in the hall (though he didn't quite match her father's height), and she appreciated the curls of his hair. His sideburns and outfit were both quite well-maintained and he _did_ hold himself with an air of superiority. Eleanor thought if she was that rich, she might too; though she promised herself silently that she would never befriend the likes of the Bingley sisters, as unpleasant as they seemed. She just wished that if he was so keen on staring at her all night that he might ask her to dance, or at least try to talk to her. Alas, he did not do either.

Eleanor danced a few dances with men from town and one with Bingley, but he made a point to dance with Jane twice in a row. He did seem to like her a lot, and Mrs. Bennet was loudly noticing it and making comments about it to the other mothers at the ball.

Eleanor moved to sit down once again on the edge of the dance floor. She noticed Darcy standing a few yards from her and looked at him from the corner of her eye, curious as to why he showed up if he didn't want to dance or even socialize.

Bingley approached him, and Eleanor could hear their conversation clearly. "Darcy, I must have you dance! I hate to see you standing about in this stupid manner."

"I certainly shall not at an assembly such as this. Your sisters are engaged, and I will not punish myself to stand up with any other woman from this town."

At that, Eleanor could not help but raise her eyebrows. That did sound prideful indeed.

"Darcy, I would not be as fastidious as you for a kingdom! Upon my honor, I have never met so many pleasant girls in my life. Several of them are uncommonly pretty." Bingley looked over at Jane, who was talking with another girl. She smiled back at him.

"I have seen only two handsome girls my entire time being here, and she is one of them."

"Yes, she is the most beautiful creature I have ever beheld! But pray tell, who is the other? Dance with her!"

Darcy turned and looked right at Eleanor, who had been side-eyeing them the whole conversation. She nervously looked ahead, pretending to be very engrossed in the people dancing. She smiled absentmindedly, not consciously trying to seem more attractive but doing it blindly anyway.

"Miss Grant there. She is very handsome indeed, but too short. And I should not like to dance with such a woman from such a place. It would be insupportable."

"You do not even know her, Darcy! She seems a very fine woman, and so does her mother." Eleanor wondered if he pointed that out only because of Jane's mother's behavior. "You cannot be so quick to judge her standing."

"You're wasting your time with me," was all Darcy said in response. "Go back to your partner and enjoy her smiles. That, too, is too much for me."

Eleanor could not help but scoff, and she knew that Darcy must have heard. Bingley left him to his devices, returning to dance with Jane once more. Eleanor stood, giggling, and brushed past Darcy to relay the events of the conversation to her friends. He stared at her retreating figure.


	4. iv

Eleanor's day began with a visit to Jane's house to talk about everything that happened at the ball, and ended when Mrs. Bennet became too annoying for Eleanor to bear. Eleanor was glad to hear that Jane was very fond of Bingley, but Jane insisted that Darcy hadn't _meant_ to offend anyone. Eleanor liked that Jane had such a good heart, but it was a bit much at times.

That night at dinner, Eleanor told her father what transpired at the ball. 

She picked at her plate of cold meats, trying to decide what would be worth telling him that her mother hadn't already mentioned. "Mr. Bingley was all smiles and politeness. He really seemed to like Jane, and she seemed to like him."

"But what about you? I'm very happy for Miss Bennet, yes, yes, but what happened with you last night? Your mother mentioned a Mr. Darcy." He glanced over at his wife, who was also looking over at him. They smirked at each other.

Eleanor's jaw dropped, particularly at her mother. "Mother, I told you not to tell him!"

"Well, yes, you did tell me that. Sorry, Ellie." Mrs. Grant tried to sound genuine but her husband was laughing.

"Go on, then. I'd like to hear it from you." He gestured to his daughter and she sighed, finally giving in.

"You're making a big deal out of nothing, you know. I met a Mr. Darcy, yes. He's a friend of Bingley's. He refused to dance with anyone and stood around staring at me the whole night. I tried to defend his honor in front of Mrs. Bennet, who was so sure of his pride, but then I overheard a conversation between Bingley and him. Bingley insisted that he dance, and Darcy made a point to say that he could _never_ dance with any of the low life women in this town. Perhaps that wasn't his exact wording, but it certainly got the point across. Then Darcy called me very handsome and insulted me in the same breath, claiming I was _such a woman from this town_! Sure he may not know it, but I'm not even from this town! Not that there's anything wrong with being from here," she added that half-heartedly, knowing that some of her friends were not exactly one's picturesque idea of perfect ladies and gentlemen. "Anyway, then I realized he was very prideful indeed. If he found me so beautiful then he should have danced with me instead of being so rude. I should hope to never see him again." Eleanor spoke very quickly and said a lot, and when she finished made a point to put a lot of food in her mouth.

Mr. Grant raised his eyebrows, his fork hovering in the air the entire time she spoke. "Did you want him to dance with you?"

"Is that what you understood from me?" Eleanor said through a mouthful of spinach, earning a glare from her mother. She swallowed her food and added indignantly, "I did want him to, yes. He's very handsome and very rich, but I wouldn't want to dance with someone who considers me to be beneath him. And even if he didn't insult me directly, he did insult the other women, and I happen to be friends with most of them, you know!"

"Alright, Ellie. Unfortunately, I've already invited all of the Bingley party to the ball for your birthday on the 23rd, and it seems they all intend to come." Mr. Grant turned his attention back to his food.

Eleanor was surprised that they agreed to come to a party celebrating someone they didn't even know. Perhaps they just really enjoyed parties; all but Darcy, it seemed. Or maybe Bingley just wanted to see Jane again and insisted everyone else come along. Coolly, Eleanor responded, "I don't mind. Mr. Bingley will be there at least, and that will be enough for me to ignore Darcy, thank you!" Now if only she could follow that plan and forget about him calling her handsome.


	5. v

Eleanor's actual birthday was on the 17th, and it was on that day that a regiment of infantry led by Colonel Forster passed through Meryton. Mr. Grant readily welcomed them, inviting them to the ball, which Eleanor noted had become more of a casual party than a celebration for her birthday. She didn't mind at all, however; if she had been the focus of the entire night she just might have fainted. She was also a little embarrassed, hoping no one would think she was very pompous, having a birthday party like that. It was her mother's idea originally, after all, mostly as a way of presenting her back into the neighborhood with a casual nod towards her eligible age.

In any case, Eleanor happily received many visitors on the 23rd, and it was a bit later than everyone else had arrived when the Bingleys came. Very soon however they assimilated into the party: Bingley found Jane; the Bingley sisters took to a couch to gossip; Mr. Hurst found a card game to join; and Darcy found a spot to stand and brood for the rest of the night.

The ballroom at Hunnisett was considerably nicer than the one at the assembly hall, though perhaps not as grand as the one at Netherfield. Still, Mr. Grant had hired locals to play music, and the footmen had been decorating the hall all afternoon. It was a fine party if Eleanor ever saw one.

But across the room she saw Darcy, standing far off from everyone else, apparently displeased with everything and everyone. She couldn't help but smile at how sad it was. Something must have happened to make him so sour, and in fact, she quite wanted to know why he came at all.

After a few dances and a short conversation with Jane, who returned to Bingley soon after, Eleanor looked around the room to find Darcy so that she could talk to him and ask him just why he was even there. Before she could, however, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Sara Wood, a friend of hers.

"Eleanor, can I talk to you?"

"Of course, Sara. What is it?" She knew that Darcy wouldn't be leaving anytime soon, at least not with Bingley still occupied. Eleanor moved to the side of the room with Sara to hear what she had to say.

"After what you told me about that Darcy fellow I wanted to hear some of his conversations myself, see how proud he truly is. I know, I shouldn't be an eavesdropper, but I couldn't help it. Anyway, I heard him talking to Miss Bingley, and she was pestering him about what he was staring at."

Eleanor could probably guess what he was staring at, but urged Sara to continue nonetheless.

"He said he was appreciating the _fine eyes of Miss Eleanor Grant_ ," Sara said the last part with a faux deep voice, and Eleanor laughed, but also blushed at the thought.

"Oh, dear. Well I was just going to talk to him, but how can I after I know he's said that? I'll be much too worried about him peering into my _fine eyes_ ," she copied the faux deep voice and the girls laughed together.

"I think you should talk to him. Perhaps he'll ask you to dance. Judging by how he's treated everyone else, him paying you compliments twice, even though neither were to your face, seems to be a lot coming from him."

Eleanor looked around for him again, and she saw that he was standing with Sir Lucas, who seemed to be talking a great deal. She turned back to Sara. "I have an excuse now. I should go save him, though I'm not yet sure if the 'him' I refer to is Mr. Darcy or Sir Lucas." She smiled and took leave of her friend, approaching the two men.

As she drew nearer, she heard that they were talking about dancing. Immediately upon spotting her, Sir Lucas smiled brightly and stepped forward, grabbing Eleanor's hand.

"Miss Grant! You simply must be dancing. Mr. Darcy, may I present Miss Grant as a partner for you? You simply cannot deny such beauty. And how humbly she acts at her own party!"

Eleanor said nothing, unable to speak as she stared up at Darcy. She suddenly didn't care about her fine eyes and was fixated on his deep brown ones. Her better judgment she left with Sara, it seemed.

"I would be happy if you were to dance with me, Miss Grant," he said, his eyes not leaving hers.

"I—um, yes, of course, Mr. Darcy." Eleanor scolded herself internally. A brief moment of eye contact should not have been enough to persuade her to dance with him, and yet it was. Thoughts of his insult from the previous party danced through her head. It was too late to take back her acceptance, even if it seemed that he only asked due to Sir Lucas's influence.

"Capital!" Sir Lucas exclaimed, bowing at them both. He left them alone to wait for the next dance to begin.

Eleanor stood silently for a moment, something that Darcy appeared to be perfectly content with. She could not help it, though, and began to speak. "Mr. Darcy, I must ask, why did you agree to come to these last two gatherings if you do not wish to dance or speak with anyone besides those who are already your friends?"

"I am to dance with you in just a moment, am I not? And I'm speaking with you now, and we are not friends." Darcy looked at her for only a moment to respond before he turned his attention back to the current dance, which she suspected he wasn't really interested in at all.

Eleanor was a bit taken aback by his response, but her manners prevented her from giving a cutting retort. "Well, yes, sir, but only because I happened by. Surely you were not planning to come over and ask me."

"Do you always make such assumptions about people you hardly know?" He faced her fully then, and Eleanor regretted ever approaching him.

She had half a mind to throw his words back in his face. He was the one who first said it would be insupportable to dance with any woman like her when he did not even know anything about her, and still did not! At least now he was seeing her house, she thought. Before she could make any response, polite or not, the music ended and everyone in the room clapped for the song. The next one began just moments after, and Darcy held a hand out to Eleanor. After a brief hesitation, she took it.

"Were you planning on asking me, then?" Eleanor finally asked as the dancing began and she got near enough for him to hear. 

Darcy certainly was a talented dancer, and Eleanor did her best to keep up; she thought she complimented him nicely. She noticed Miss Bingley giving them looks from across the room and turned her gaze back to Darcy, who was certainly taking his time in thinking of a response.

"If I say yes, you'll decide that I am lying, and if I say no, your assumptions will be proven correct." He said no more and continued the steps.

Eleanor figured that meant 'no', and that he was just too prideful to admit that she was right. Perhaps she was looking too far into it, but she did like being right. He certainly wasn't very talkative, in any case, which made Eleanor vastly uncomfortable. She was used to holding conversations with her dancing partners, but he seemed incapable. She really could not tell if it was because he thought that speaking to her too much would tarnish his reputation or he just had trouble speaking to strangers. She could think of very few men she had met who were this strange.

Eleanor decided not to say anything else, and they finished the dance after minutes of silence. He led her off the dance floor and bowed, preparing to take his leave back to his corner of brooding. Eleanor curtsied and was about to let him go but her mouth moved faster than her mind.

"Mr. Darcy?"

He turned around swiftly. 

Eleanor hesitated, not entirely sure what she intended to say. Finally she exhaled and continued, "It would do me great pleasure if you could find time to call on my family at Hunnisett Park while you are in town."

"I do not know how long I will be in town, or if I can find the time. Thank you." He bowed once more and left.

Eleanor stared after him. That had to be pride, and Eleanor felt her own wounded.


	6. vi

"How did you like his dancing?" Mr. Grant's voice interrupted the peaceful silence that had settled in on the morning of the 25th. Eleanor felt lucky that he was busy the entire day following the party because it meant no harassment about the events of the night before. She thought she could go free without questioning; it appeared that she made that presumption far too quickly.

Eleanor's fork stopped midway to her mouth and she set it down, eyeing her father over the breakfast table. She then looked at her mother, who said nothing and was pretending to hear nothing, but Eleanor knew that this must have been the topic of their private conversation the night before. 

She shrugged and continued eating. "I danced with many men the other night. Which do you mean?"

"The one you said you never wanted to see again."

Eleanor grabbed extra bread calmly, responding casually, "It was tolerable. He danced well, but the man himself I could not understand. He said nothing the entire dance, only responding with very few words when I asked him questions. I truly cannot tell if he's merely arrogant like everyone else in town is saying, or he is just the reserved type." 

"Perhaps he was so captivated by your beauty and wit that he just couldn't think of what to say," Mrs. Grant responded in a nonchalant tone. She grabbed sausages from a tray in the center of the table without looking over at her daughter.

Exasperated, Eleanor threw her head back to stare at the ceiling. "Is there some goal to pestering me about Mr. Darcy? Is he an actor hired by the two of you to torment me?"

"Not at all!" Mr. Grant laughed heartily. "I find it very amusing that he's doing this all on his own. Your mother is convinced this will blossom into courtship, but I say she's read too many romance novels. I look forward to the next party."

Eleanor scrunched up her nose at her mother in a look of confusion. "I would not like to court such a man, and I highly doubt he would ever court me! And besides, he said he doesn't know how long he is staying. Perhaps he'll be leaving as quickly as he came. Maybe he's already gone!"

A sharp knock came at the front door. Mr. and Mrs. Grant gave each other looks, like they _always_ did when they wanted to agonize their only child. Their housekeeper went to answer the caller, and Eleanor's palms started to sweat. She thought of what a grand scene for her book this would make, complaining about a man and hoping he's gone and then he shows up right at the front door.

"Letter from Netherfield for you, Miss Grant." The housekeeper, Mrs. Cooper, handed her the paper, and Eleanor came back to the present.

She opened it quickly, glad that it hadn't been Darcy at the door, but reminding herself that it may as well have been if this letter was from him.

"Well? Does Mr. Darcy invite you to dine with them all?" Mrs. Grant leaned forward, trying to get a peek at the writing.

Anything Eleanor would have felt from that statement was overshadowed by the worry she was experiencing after having actually read the letter. She set it on the table and looked at her parents with a frown. "No. It's Jane. She's sick and stuck at Netherfield, and wishes for me to be by her side." She paused, thinking over her options. "I will walk there. It's hardly a few miles from Hunnisett and I don't want to use the carriage when you have the boys coming over this afternoon. Can I go, father?"

Mr. Grant waved a hand dismissively. "Go on. Send a letter our way before dinner, and give Jane my well wishes."

Mrs. Grant was frowning now, too, and added, "Oh, that dear girl. I do hope she hasn't caught something serious. What do you think she's doing over at Netherfield, anyhow? Oh, I bet it has something to do with that Mr. Bingley—"

The rest of her parents' conversation was lost on her as Eleanor dashed from the dining hall and upstairs to her room to fetch her things and change into half dress.

The walk to Netherfield from Hunnisett was short, but full of more difficulties than Eleanor expected. The heavy rains from the previous day had left large puddles everywhere she went, and the dirt roads were muddied and hard to traverse. She did her best to keep her skirts out of the mess, but her shoes she could not save. The humidity in the air, too, made her hair frizz, despite the bonnet she wore. 

She arrived at Netherfield not long after. Though she was thoroughly soiled and undoubtedly looked a mess, she couldn't think of anyone there that she'd care for the opinions of if they thought to insult her for it. She was there to see Jane, after all. Eleanor knocked on the front door, expecting the housekeeper. Instead, Darcy opened it.

Eleanor's face flushed when she saw him, and she wondered if he was watching out the window as she arrived.

Darcy said nothing for what seemed like an eternity of staring, which made Eleanor anxious, wanting to push him aside and go in on her own. He said finally, "Miss Grant. Did you come all this way by foot?"

Eleanor held her hands up, gesturing to the empty drive behind her. "Does it not appear so?"

Darcy looked taken aback for a split second, but regained his composure so quickly that Eleanor hardly noticed it. "Mr. Bingley told me Miss Bennet was sending a letter for you, but I expected you might take a carriage. You show an admirable devotion to your friends." 

Eleanor quirked an eyebrow. "I thank you for saying so. I could be even more devoted to her if only I could see her."

Darcy stepped away from the door, waving a hand, inviting her inside.

Eleanor went in, taking in the details of the house. It was very grand and very intricately decorated; one would assume this was an intimate home and not just a rental. Darcy led her to the drawing room without speaking, and inside was Mr. Bingley and everyone else.

"Hello, Miss Grant!" Mr. Bingley bowed and Eleanor curtsied in response.

She tried to ignore the eyes of the others which were trailing up and down her. Her hair situation was more evident after removing her bonnet, but the only one who didn't seem to care about her looks was Mr. Bingley. Mr. Darcy was not looking at her with contempt either, but Eleanor couldn't help but feel that he was judging her anyway.

"Hello, Mr. Bingley." If the situation hadn't involved an ill friend, Eleanor might've spent more time complimenting his home or asking how he was, or pretending to care about the other four in the room. "I apologize for my appearance and my haste, but will you please take me to Jane? I am worried for her."

Mr. Bingley nodded, a look of concern on his face. "No need to apologize, Miss Grant. You look very lovely this morning. Follow me and I will take you to her."

Eleanor followed, glad to leave the others behind. Once they were out of earshot, Eleanor said to Bingley, "On behalf of her family I'd like to thank you for keeping her here. I know Jane and I know she would never want to be a bother to any of you."

"Nonsense!" Bingley stopped outside of a door on the second floor. "She is no bother at all, and I am glad to help. We are taking dinner now. Feel free to join us after you've checked on her and please, tell me how she is doing."

Eleanor nodded. "Of course, Mr. Bingley. Thank you." She curtsied and he bowed, walking back downstairs.

Eleanor entered the room he brought her to and inside Jane was laying underneath a thick duvet, her golden hair strewn about her head on the pillow like a halo. Eleanor came to her side, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking Jane's hand.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, and Jane looked up at her.

"Very ill. Thank you for coming so quickly, Ellie," she said meekly.

Eleanor frowned. "Of course, Jane. Do you need anything?"

"Just rest… Mr. Bingley is being very kind to me."

Eleanor couldn't help but smirk at that. "Well then, perhaps you have a chance at marrying him after all," she joked, recalling their conversation from the previous morning. Jane thought him to be very gentlemanlike and very charming, and Eleanor agreed.

"Oh, I cannot think of marriage now. It was my mother's attempt to force me to see Mr. Bingley that caused me to become ill. I do not blame her, but I wish I hadn't come at all."

Eleanor shook her head angrily, looking out the window. It didn't take long for her to assume that Mrs. Bennet had sent Jane in the rainstorm the previous night. "I will take your blame for myself, then, and put it on her. It was a foolish attempt because now you are here, ill, and who knows when you will get better?"

Jane gave her a small smile in an attempt to soothe her worries. "I will be fine. Now go and have dinner with them."

"Are you sure you wouldn't like for me to stay longer?"

"Quite sure." As Eleanor stood, Jane grabbed her arm. "And Ellie… please don't leave. I'm sure I'll be here another day at least, and though they are being so kind to me… I want you to be here."

Eleanor smiled and gave her hand a pat. "I wouldn't dream of leaving, Jane. But why not call on one of your sisters?"

Jane smiled softly. "There are reasons. Good evening, Ellie."

Eleanor left the room and went back downstairs, getting the aide of a footman to direct her to the dining hall. When she entered, it was silent, and everyone was staring at her with the guilty expression only found on those who had just been discussing the person they were now looking at.

Mr. Bingley jumped from his seat. "Miss Grant. How does Miss Bennet do? Is she any better?"

"She is very faint, and seems quite unwell."

"Let me send for Mr. Jones, then. You must stay until she is recovered."

Eleanor already promised Jane that she would, but the implications she was now realizing made her feel like an intruder. "I-I would not like to inconvenience you," she said, giving Bingley a thankful smile.

"I won't hear of anything else, Miss Grant. I'll send to Hunnisett for your clothes." Bingley waved a footman over, and ordered him off to Hunnisett to retrieve Eleanor's things.

Eleanor raised her eyebrows, surprised at his diligence. "You are very kind, sir. Thank you."

Bingley gestured for Eleanor to sit, and she did so, albeit very hesitantly considering everyone's eyes were still on her. He then sat back down at the head of the table.

Darcy, who had been standing near the window the entire conversation, came to sit across from Eleanor, which only increased her discomfort.

"So Eleanor," came a woman's voice from the table, and she looked up to see that it came from Caroline Bingley. She felt insulted that she was using her first name when they had hardly been formally acquainted. "Could you remind me what it is your father does?"

Eleanor blinked. She was clearly trying to get Eleanor to admit something incriminating so that she might seem unfit to be in their company, but sadly for her, Eleanor had nothing shameful to say. "I don't believe you ever knew. But if you must, he is a landowner and a tutor. He rents land and estates in Somerset and Derbyshire, and teaches the children of gentlemen."

"Which estate does he own in Derbyshire?" Darcy asked before Miss Bingley could say anything else. Though Eleanor expected she had no response anyway, since she seemed taken aback by the fact that Eleanor didn't say her father was a gambler or a thief.

"Warsen," Eleanor answered, turning her eyes to face him instead.

Caroline Bingley laughed, an annoying, high sound that nearly made Eleanor grimace. "Warsen! Why, that's the smaller estate but five miles from Pemberley."

"Excuse me, but of what importance is Pemberley?" Eleanor had never been to Warsen or Derbyshire at all. They rented it to her father's only sibling, another Mr. Grant, and the times she had seen him were when he came to visit. Her father only went to Derbyshire when he had to alone.

"That's Mr. Darcy's estate, Eleanor—" Eleanor cut her off.

"Apologies, Miss Bingley, but I would prefer if you returned to calling me Miss Grant. I would not think we are so intimate to be on a first name basis." 

Aside from her wounded pride at Caroline's disrespect, Eleanor felt something flutter when she learned about Pemberley. Something about the idea that Mr. Darcy had always been so near her family gave her a strange feeling.

Miss Bingley's smile vanished. "Of course, Miss Grant." She offered no apology, which didn't surprise Eleanor.

Mr. Hurst interrupted, clearly not caring at all what they were talking about. "Will there be sport today, or not?"

Mr. Bingley, who'd been listening to their conversation, glanced over at his other sister's husband. "Right, Mr. Hurst, of course. We can go now, if everyone is quite ready?"

Mr. Darcy stood immediately, his gaze never leaving Eleanor. She stared back at him, unintimidated. The men left the room, but Eleanor knew she would be seeing much of them in the upcoming days.

Eleanor ate very little and left soon afterwards, retreating back upstairs to the room Jane was staying in. Jane was asleep, but Eleanor had thought to bring a book along with her. She sat in a chair in the corner of the room, reading until she heard the men arrive back at the house from their hunt. The sun was now very low in the sky and there was an orange light flooding into the room. 

Her clothes and things came just a few minutes after, along with a letter from her father that said he would like to have known _before_ she left that she would be staying several days. She quickly wrote out an apology and a promise to bring him interesting stories and sent it back with the footman.

Before going downstairs to the drawing room, she changed out of her filthy half dress and put on a clean gown, and also redid her hair. Looking in the mirror in the room, she was pleased to see that she no longer looked like a street beggar.

Eleanor arrived in the parlor to find all but Darcy entertaining themselves with a game of loo.

"Miss Grant! Join us, won't you?" Mrs. Hurst called to her as she entered. 

Eleanor gave her a small smile and shook her head. "No, thank you. I must admit I know nothing of card games." 

Louisa and Caroline exchanged looks, and Eleanor sat on a couch in the parlor, book in hand.

"You prefer reading then, do you? Quite singular," Mr. Hurst muttered, throwing a card on the table.

"Quite!" Miss Bingley exclaimed. "It seems you are a great reader and take no pleasure in anything else. What _do_ you take pleasure in, Miss Grant?"

Darcy entered the room then, making no comment to anyone there. He sat at a desk against the wall and began to write something.

After regarding his entrance, Eleanor turned back to Miss Bingley. "That's untrue. Reading is one of my pastimes, yes, but I also enjoy writing if you must know."

"Is that all you do, then?" Miss Bingley asked, and Eleanor felt her face get hot. The audacity of this woman, insulting her under the pretense of caring about what she was interested in! Eleanor exhaled through her nose.

"Miss Bingley, I enjoy dancing, singing, and performing on the pianoforte, violin, and the harp. I speak Latin and French and enjoy conversing in them, and I also like reading classics. I write fiction as often as I can, and I consider myself to be quite good at painting. You must remember my father is a boy's teacher and educated me himself. My mother, on the other hand, taught me embroidery which I also enjoy. What do you enjoy doing, Miss Bingley?"

The card game had come to a halt as the four players looked at Eleanor curiously, though Bingley had a smile on his face. Miss Bingley tittered and Darcy continued his writing without even acknowledging the presence of anyone in the room.

"I am all astonishment, Miss Grant. I should think we would all like for you to show us some of your talents sometime." She didn't answer Eleanor's question and apparently didn't intend to.

"I would be happy to," Eleanor said. She then opened her book and resumed reading.

Internally, Eleanor was seething. She wanted to stand and throw her book at Caroline Bingley's face for the insults she tossed at her. Eleanor admired Mr. Bingley, but she knew their wealth came from trade, and that his sisters had hardly been educated in the modern ways she had been. For someone so condescending and rude, Caroline Bingley had nothing to offer that Eleanor did not also have.

Miss Bingley quickly changed the subject, and Eleanor hoped it was out of embarrassment. "What do you do so secretly over there, sir?" she called over to Darcy.

Eleanor thought more about Caroline Bingley and wanted to laugh. How embarrassing it was the way she favored Mr. Darcy, and how obvious she made it! And how amusing it was, too, that Darcy paid no mind to her.

After a moment he said simply, "It is no secret. I'm writing to my sister." He resumed doing so.

Eleanor set her book in her lap, still open but ignored at the moment while she observed the interaction.

"Oh, dear Georgiana! How I long to see her. Is she much grown since the spring? Is she as tall as me?" The Bingley sisters laughed at some joke Eleanor didn't pick up on.

"She is about Miss Eleanor Grant's height," Darcy answered simply, and Eleanor caught Miss Bingley's eye on her for just a moment.

Miss Bingley sighed contently as she continued her card game. "And so accomplished. Her performance on the pianoforte is exquisite."

Mr. Bingley, smiling, turned to look at Eleanor behind him. "All young ladies are so accomplished! They sing, they draw, they dance, and all sorts of other things, I know not what!"

Eleanor smiled back. He and Jane certainly made a wonderful pair, and she longed to get to know him better. In the presence of his sisters, it seemed impossible.

Uncalled for, Darcy made a response without ever looking up from his letter. "I know about a half dozen women who would satisfy my idea of an accomplished woman."

Miss Bingley quickly reworked her opinion upon hearing Darcy's. "Oh, certain there are some other requirements. No woman can really be deemed accomplished who does not also possess a certain something," Miss Bingley made an odd hand waving motion that Eleanor detested, "in her air, in her manner of walking, in the tone of her voice. Her dress, her expressions," Miss Bingley rattled on, making quick glances at Eleanor all the while.

Eleanor was beginning to feel fraught sitting in that parlor surrounded by such people. She doubted Mr. Bingley could understand that Miss Bingley's words were insulting, or at least that she intended for them to be insulting. How she wanted to stand and run from the room. But for some reason she did not dismiss herself. Out of spite, desire to hear what other quips Darcy had — she knew not what kept her there.

"Yet beyond all this she must have something more substantial," Darcy said, his eyes never leaving the paper he was making quick work on, his quill gliding back and forth over the letter. "The improvement of her mind through extensive reading." He stopped writing and turned to face Eleanor, quite obviously staring straight at her.

Eleanor couldn't help grinning, a blush forming on her cheeks. It was a kind sentiment but it was also very awkward the way he stared and did it so prominently, too. She could not say if she grinned because of his obvious direction of the statement towards her, or if she grinned because of the resentful expression that Miss Bingley was now sporting her way. Later she would probably admit that it was both. Regardless, she was then quite content to finish her night by continuing her book.


	7. vii

The next morning, Mrs. Bennet arrived at Netherfield with her two youngest daughters to visit Jane. Eleanor remained out of their way, feeling particularly like she was not supposed to be there. She remained in the room Mr. Bingley was letting her use all morning aside from breakfast. At one point she even made some progress on her novel, if you can call thinking of a word she'd forgotten 'progress'. Really, she wanted to avoid Miss Bingley and Mr. Darcy, and also Mrs. Bennet, who no doubt would have some choice words for her when she learned she had also been staying overnight.

Some hours later, Eleanor followed the Bennets into the drawing room where the rest of the household was. She wanted to hear if Jane was well enough to go home so that she could also leave. Though she tried to be hopeful for her friend's sake, Eleanor had a gut feeling that Mrs. Bennet would be forcing Jane to stay even longer in the hopes that she would continue being doted on by Mr. Bingley.

"Mrs. Bennet!" Mr. Bingley called, coming to her side. "Do you fear Miss Bennet's condition has worsened?"

Mrs. Bennet clutched her chest dramatically. "Indeed I do, sir. She is very ill indeed, and suffers a vast deal, though with the greatest patience in the world, for she has the sweetest temper. But she is still much too ill to be moved. We must trespass a little longer on your kindness."

"But of course!" Mr. Bingley seemed shocked that she would even call it 'trespassing'. He looked down at his sisters, who were sitting on a couch by the fireplace. They stole rude glances at each other whenever Mrs. Bennet talked. 

Miss Bingley gave her a small smile. "Miss Bennet will receive every possible attention, I assure you." 

Eleanor sat silently on a chair across from the Bingley sisters. Darcy stood nearby. Though it disheartened her, she felt certain that she would tell Mr. Bingley once the Bennets had left that she would be going home. She felt for Jane, but felt for herself more. They would be kind to Jane, she knew. Unfortunately, half of them could hardly be kind to Eleanor, and she didn't want to stay in the home of people who clearly didn't like her. At least, the home of a man whose sisters didn't like her.

Mrs. Bennet beamed. "You are too kind!" For no reason at all, she stepped forward and went to admire the drapes. "Well, you have a sweet room here. I think you will never want to leave Netherfield." She turned and faced him, trying to get him to promise her that he wouldn't.

"I'd be happy to live in the country forever." Mr. Bingley smiled widely and turned to his friend. "Wouldn't you, Darcy?"

Darcy looked at him blankly, having said nothing up to this point. "You would? You don't find the society somewhat confined and unvarying?" He stole glances at the Bennets, and Mrs. Bennet was quick to retort.

"Confined and unvarying? Indeed it is not, sir!" She spat her words, striding back across the room towards the door. She stopped just short of it to turn and face him. "The country is a vast deal pleasanter than the town, whatever you may say about it!"

Darcy stopped listening in the middle of her sentence and turned away, a look of irritation on his face as he went to the window.

Eleanor felt the need to intervene and save everyone from the awkward silence that was sure to follow. She stood abruptly. "Mrs. Bennet, if I may, I believe you mistake Mr. Darcy's meaning."

Mrs. Bennet narrowed her eyes. She had never particularly liked Eleanor. "You would say so, Miss Grant, being from elsewhere! He seems to think the country nothing at all! Don't tell me you are defending him?"

Eleanor bit her lip, unsure of how to proceed. She wasn't trying to defend him, but it was definitely not the right time to argue specifics. Before she could even blink, Mrs. Bennet continued. 

"I'll have you know we dine with _24 families_!" Mrs. Bennet said the number proudly in Darcy's direction, but Eleanor heard the Bingley sisters suppressing laughter just feet away. 

Eleanor's face was burning in embarrassment on behalf of the Bennets. Kitty and Lydia seemed perturbed but not entirely ashamed. If Jane was there Eleanor knew she would be mortified. Eleanor could think of nothing else to say that would alleviate the situation, but luckily for her, Lydia picked up the slack. She stepped in front of her mother and smiled at Mr. Bingley.

"Mr. Bingley, did you not say you would give a ball when you were settled? It will be quite a scandal if you don't keep your word."

"I am perfectly ready to keep my engagement," he assured her, clearly glad for the distraction. The two Bennet sisters grinned at each other. "When your sister recovers, you shall name the day of the ball yourself, if you please."

The girls exclaimed, and Mrs. Bennet seemed to have forgotten the previous match of insults and squealed. "See, girls? That's a fair promise for you! That's generosity for you! That is what I call _gentlemanly behavior_." No, she hadn't forgotten the match of insults, and proceeded to berate Darcy. Eleanor was immensely uncomfortable. Everyone in the room glanced around at each other uneasily, trying to send some silent signal to get Mrs. Bennet to leave.

On cue, she stood. "Well, now, thank you for your goodness, sir!"

The Bennets took their leave, and as soon as they stepped out the door Caroline Bingley sighed loudly.

"I thought they might never leave! How painful it is to hear her go on and on. Don't you agree, Miss Grant?"

Eleanor sat back down. "I know you say that as a test, but I have to say that yes, I do agree." She silently apologized to Jane for insulting her mother. "I have known Mrs. Bennet some time and she has never improved." She didn't want to give Caroline Bingley any satisfaction, but she couldn't lie, either.

Miss Bingley laughed slightly to herself. "How _did_ you meet the Bennets, Miss Grant? She mentioned you being from somewhere else. Where is that, exactly? Surely not London, am I correct?"

Darcy came back to the center of the room, standing beside Bingley. He seemed at least somewhat interested in what Eleanor had to say, so she glanced briefly at him before turning her attention back to Caroline. She hated how often the topic of her life came up in that house, but there was no escaping it.

"I'm from the town of Wynndale, originally, in Somerset. My father owns Grant Estate and it's been in his family for generations." She knew that that piece of information was irrelevant, but Eleanor felt like she had to impress Miss Bingley, and perhaps the others in the room. She scolded herself for thinking that way, but she couldn't help it — she could never allow someone to slander her. She wouldn't admit it, but she was also still reeling over Darcy's comment from their first meeting. "I did live in London for a time, when I was seventeen. My uncle lives there in Harley Street."

"What is your uncle's name, Miss Grant?" Mrs. Hurst asked, tilting her head. For once she did not speak in a condescending tone. Perhaps that was because Harley Street was where many wealthy people lived.

"His name is Sir Martin Haskett. He is a surgeon."

Mr. Bingley cried out, "Sir Martin Haskett! I know the man! Darcy, do you not remember Sir Haskett?"

Darcy was silent for a moment, keeping his gaze trained on Eleanor. "I do. He seems a good man, if not rather careless with his associations."

Eleanor exhaled sharply, too offended to wonder how they knew her uncle. She would have to ask later. "Well, he is a good man, thank you." She then remembered that she still had something else to answer. Curse that Darcy and how he made her thoughts go off on tangents! "Apologies Miss Bingley, but as for your other question, I met them some ten years ago when we moved to Hertfordshire. My other uncle used to own an estate here before he left to America for trade."

Eleanor knew that Caroline Bingley could not feel any contempt towards that because it was how her family made their money. Miss Bingley replied simply, "Charming relations you have." 

Darcy looked ready to speak, and Eleanor was eager to hear what he had to say, for better or worse. Suddenly the door to the parlor burst open, and Mr. Hurst was standing outside of it. 

"And what is this gathering? Dinner is already started."

The group stood and left the room, leaving their conversation behind. Eleanor followed the group to the dining hall. By that point, she had forgotten all about the promise she made herself to go home.


	8. viii

After dinner, which was full of conversation topics that she did not find notable at all, Eleanor went back upstairs to visit Jane. She had taken her dinner in bed, and did not look much better. It seemed Mrs. Bennet hadn't been lying after all.

She told her everything that happened that day, purposefully leaving out what had transpired between Darcy and Mrs. Bennet. Jane listened intently, though said very little in response.

"How are you feeling?" Eleanor asked finally, the question on her mind since she first entered. She didn't want to seem too overbearing, however.

"Much the same as yesterday. The visit from my mother…" Jane trailed off, looking out the window as she thought of what to say. "It didn't make me as happy as I imagined it would. She only wants me to stay here because of Mr. Bingley. I am sure I could take a carriage home and rest in my own bed if only she would let me."

Eleanor frowned and took her hand. "I wish you could go to the comfort of your own home as well, but I must admit your Mr. Bingley is paying you very special attention."

Jane smiled softly. "He is not _my_ Mr. Bingley."

Eleanor grinned. "I should think he will be very soon! That will be a fanciful story for your children, won't it? 'We fell in love after I stayed sick at his house for several days'."

"I don't know whether I am in love with him, but I do like him a lot, Ellie. I do."

"I am happy for you, Jane. Someday when I am an old spinster I will teach all ten of your children to embroider cushions and to play the harp."

Jane laughed. "You should join the others downstairs. Your Mr. Darcy is waiting."

Eleanor's eyebrows shot up at that. She'd been telling her about her interactions with Darcy the past few days, but only then realized just how much she talked about him. She stood up and headed for the door. "I certainly will join them if that's what I'm going to hear from you!" She joked.

Jane smiled after her. "It sounds like you're getting on better with Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst, at least."

"Mrs. Hurst maybe, but Miss Bingley? No, not in the slightest! I will join them and when I return to your side surely I'll have a new tale to tell of her malevolence." Eleanor said farewell and left the room.


	9. ix

Eleanor gathered in the sitting room with them all once again. This time everyone had their own affairs they were tending to, and it was mostly quiet. Mr. Hurst was asleep on a couch, and Eleanor felt very offended seeing him there. She couldn't wait to tell her father. He snored and turned as if in his own bed. She tried to focus on her book, but found it impossible. Not only was the snoring drilling her ears, Miss Bingley kept walking around the room, causing a distraction in the corner of Eleanor's eye. Darcy, too, was reading, and she couldn't understand how he was so focused.

"Miss Eleanor Grant," Caroline said, suddenly standing beside her. Eleanor looked up, startled. "Let me persuade you to follow my example and take a turn about the room with me. It's quite refreshing."

Eleanor could not for the life of her think of why she'd do that, but also couldn't think of a reason to object. Forcing a smile, she stood. Unexpectedly, Caroline took Eleanor's arm and linked it with her own, leading her around the room.

"Won't you join us, Mr. Darcy?" Caroline said, and Eleanor promptly realized why she'd asked her.

Darcy closed his book. "That would defeat the object."

"What do you mean, sir?" Caroline asked innocently, and Eleanor winced internally.

"I think we should not enquire into his meaning," Eleanor said, trying to lead Caroline back to the other side of the room.

Caroline kept talking anyway. "No, I insist on knowing your meaning, sir!" It was painfully obvious what his meaning was, and that Caroline knew it, and had done this on purpose.

"I mean that your figures appear at an advantage when walking and I can best admire them from here."

Mrs. Hurst laughed and Caroline feigned surprise. "Shocking! What an abominable reply. How shall we punish him, Miss Grant?"

Eleanor noticed that Darcy had just a hint of a smile, and she laughed too. The past couple days had been unpleasant to say the least, but she decided then that she would at least try to enjoy herself for the remainder of her time spent there. After all, at least then it seemed that they were including her in their jokes. She said to Caroline, "Perhaps we should just laugh at him."

Caroline let go of her arm and sat back down. "Laugh at Mr. Darcy? Impossible, for he is a man without fault."

Eleanor couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or not. Still, she replied with a smirk, "Oh, he is?" She looked at him and saw that his smile had vanished.

"That is not possible for anyone. But it has been my study to avoid weaknesses that expose ridicule."

Eleanor wondered if he often insulted people when they were within earshot and if he considered that avoiding weaknesses. "I should think you wouldn't admit to those weaknesses."

"I have my faults, but they are not of understanding. My temper I cannot vouch for. It might be called resentful. My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever."

She worried briefly that he only said that because she'd lost his good opinion. Reminding herself that she didn't care, that she _shouldn't_ care, she replied, "That is a failing indeed, but I cannot laugh at it."

Darcy went on, "I believe every tendency has a disposition to some evil." Was this to become a philosophical debate?

"And your fault is to find a reason to dislike everyone," Eleanor replied, less of a statement than an assumption. She thought she sounded in good humor.

Darcy said coolly, "And yours is to willfully make presumptions."

Eleanor blinked, unsure of when the conversation had become so serious. For the first time she was glad to hear Caroline Bingley speak.

"Shall I play some music?" She said, and moved over to the pianoforte with haste. 

Eleanor smiled in her direction, and soon enough she began to play a quiet capriccio. Eleanor then went back to sit down with her book, though she could feel Darcy's eyes on her the rest of the evening.


	10. x

Very early the next morning, there was a knock upon the door to Eleanor's room. She was still undressed, and was only wearing her shift. She grabbed her bed jacket and put it on, hoping that it was a woman at the door. Her hair, too, was down and barely brushed.

"Yes?" She called out tentatively. 

"Might I speak with you, Miss Grant?" It was Caroline Bingley.

Eleanor paused. If she opened the door looking like that, Miss Bingley would no doubt have some choice words to speak behind her back later. If she got dressed, she would get anxious and take too long. Finally she replied, "I'm not yet dressed. Is this an urgent matter?"

"Not at all, Miss Grant. I just wanted to discuss some of the events of last night."

Eleanor tensed up at that. "I see. I'll dress quickly, then. We can take breakfast together."

"Very well." Miss Bingley said no more, and Eleanor pressed her ear up to the door. Footsteps faded down the hall.

Eleanor wondered what she could possibly have to say. Was she to scold her for her interactions with Darcy? If so, what right did she have to interfere? They were of no relation but perhaps her imagined attraction. Eleanor dressed quickly and left her room. The sun was barely rising, and it didn't sound like anyone else was awake.

She made her way downstairs. Miss Bingley was alone in the dining room. Eleanor sat herself across from her, and a footman brought her a plate of food shortly after.

"What is it you wanted to talk about, Miss Bingley?" Eleanor found she had no appetite and picked at her food, something she knew her mother would scold her for if she were there.

Caroline Bingley took a long drink from her teacup before she answered. "You have very pert opinions, Miss Grant."

Eleanor looked up from her plate and glared at Caroline. "How kind of you to notice."

"I'm not sure what your intentions are being here, but for some reason, Mr. Darcy seems to be very interested in you. I would advise you not to take that to heart. And once sweet Jane is better, I hope you will never set foot in this house again."

Eleanor couldn't help her jaw dropping at that statement. She had never been spoken to like that in her entire life. "And do you have any explanation for this?" She struggled to keep her voice steady. She knew her face must have been bright red, and she could hardly keep herself from throwing her plate at Caroline.

Miss Bingley laughed quietly. "You might have a nice family and a nice home but that will never make a nice character. You are to ruin Darcy if you continue your association." She set her cup down abruptly and the silverware on the table shook.

Eleanor exhaled shakily. "You have no—"

Before she could finish, the door to the dining room swung open once again and Mr. Bingley and Mrs. Hurst entered.

"Good morning!" Mr. Bingley called, smiling at Eleanor and his sister. "The two of you are up early. I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

Caroline smiled at him. "Not at all. We were just discussing the weather. Doesn't it seem nice out for a walk, brother?"

He nodded and sat at the head of the table. "Indeed it does! I think that sounds like a grand idea. Miss Grant, won't you join us after breakfast?"

Eleanor had her hands in her lap, her napkin balled up in her fist. She wondered how angry she looked. Truthfully, she wanted to stand up and tell him how awful his sister was behaving, but then she would just look like she was having a psychotic break. "I… I'd like to stay by Jane's side, if that's alright with you, sir."

Mr. Bingley smiled again; when was he not smiling? "Perfectly alright! I hope she's getting better. Perhaps you can take her some breakfast once we have finished."

Eleanor forced a smile in his direction, ignoring Caroline's eyes which were still trained on her. "Of course I will. Might I ask, Mr. Bingley, where is Mr. Darcy?" 

It might have sounded like spite to Caroline, but Eleanor was so upset that she wasn't even thinking about being spiteful. She was genuinely curious. And well, maybe a little bit spiteful. Though her thoughts were still racing around her head in a million directions, she knew for certain that she would not stop any association with anyone in that house. No one that she genuinely liked, anyway.

In any case, she had decided quite firmly she would leave a farewell letter for Jane, who would hopefully still be asleep, and walk back home as soon as everyone was out of her way. The prospect of going on a walk had been a fortunate break.

"Still combing his hair, I'd think," Mr. Bingley answered with a laugh.

The conversation waned off into different topics around the table once Mr. Hurst arrived. Mr. Darcy never appeared.

Eleanor said very little else, and forced herself to eat so that she might seem preoccupied. Caroline Bingley stole glances at her for the rest of the meal, and several times the two sisters said something quietly to each other and laughed. Eleanor swore she had never seen ruder manners.

As soon as the others dismissed themselves and went outside, Eleanor rushed upstairs to the bedroom she was staying in. She put her things away hastily, then sat down at the desk to write a letter to Jane. She explained very briefly what had happened with Caroline Bingley, and that she was sorry for leaving her. Eleanor also promised to visit Longbourn as soon as Jane returned there.

She stood and hurried down the hall, carefully opening the door to Jane's room. She was still asleep, and Eleanor breathed a sigh of relief. She set the folded letter on the side table, and went back to her room. It was then she realized the issue with her plan.

Eleanor stared down at her trunk — there was no way she'd be able to lift it and carry it the miles back to Hunnisett. But she'd have to, it seemed. She hiked it up, struggling. Her hat kept tilting forward and getting in her line of vision, and as she walked down the hall her skirts kept getting tangled between her legs. She let out a noise of frustration and dropped the trunk, and it made a louder noise than she intended. 

"Miss Grant?"

Eleanor jumped, turning around to see Mr. Darcy standing behind her. "Mr. Darcy! I... good morning."

"Are you leaving? Let me call a carriage for you." He moved forward, and Eleanor stepped in front of him.

"That won't be necessary, thank you."

Darcy looked down at the trunk, and then back up at Eleanor's frazzled appearance. "Is there something wrong?"

Eleanor's eye twitched. She wanted to tell him about Miss Bingley, but knew she couldn't. She sighed, defeated. "I… would like a carriage, thank you. I don't mean any offense, but I don't think I can stay in this house any longer."

Darcy's face was unreadable as he stepped forward. His hand pressed against the small of her back as he moved around her towards the trunk. "That is understandable," he said simply. He picked it up with ease and went downstairs.

Eleanor followed. "Thank you, sir." He didn't respond.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Darcy called a footman over and ordered him to bring a carriage to the front of the house and take the trunk away. He did so, leaving Darcy and Eleanor alone once more in the foyer.

Against everything she was feeling at the moment and had felt the night before, Eleanor looked up at Darcy. "Mr. Darcy, I'd like to apologize for my behavior last night." Truly, she didn't feel like she was in the wrong, but the fault wasn't _entirely_ his. 

"Your apology is unnecessary. I was not offended."

Eleanor wrung her hands. Must he act so condescending? "I'm glad for that, then." He offered no apology of his own, which Eleanor thought should have been the only logical next step. Instead he remained silent as the carriage came into view in the front drive.

Eleanor stepped outside and he followed. Surprisingly, he opened the carriage door for her.

"Goodbye, Miss Grant."

"Farewell, Mr. Darcy," Eleanor called out the window as the carriage pulled away. 

She suddenly felt that she had never been more glad to leave a place in her entire life. Sure, she had grown more intrigued by Mr. Darcy, but now that she was out of his presence she assured herself it was only because she was confined to be by him for so long. She briefly worried that Miss Bingley would take her leaving and twist it to turn everyone against her, but then she realized that it didn't really seem like everyone took her opinions too close to heart. Mr. Bingley was too kind and too smart to dislike Eleanor, and Mr. Darcy, well… he was his own man. And she didn't really care for his good opinion, did she? She couldn't think on that for too long because then she realized she hadn't brought Jane any breakfast. Too late now, she thought, as Netherfield disappeared from view behind a wall of trees.


	11. xi

Eleanor arrived home at Hunnisett not long after, and the carriage returned to Netherfield. She sighed contently as she looked up at her house; at last there was peace.

Mrs. Cooper opened the door when she knocked. "Hello, Miss Grant! We weren't expecting you. Did you send a letter?"

Eleanor shook her head. "I did not. I didn't plan to leave today, but this is how things turned out." She went inside and removed her hat and gloves, then went to find her parents.

They were sitting in the library, and when she spotted her daughter, Mrs. Grant jumped up and went to her.

"Ellie! What a lovely surprise! Come and join us, won't you?" She set a hand upon her daughter's shoulder and led her to the table.

"What brings you back from Netherfield so suddenly?" Her father asked, eyeing her with a peculiar look.

Eleanor blinked. She wasn't sure if she wanted to share all the details, but all at once she realized it didn't matter anyway, and suddenly she was pouring her heart out.

When she was done relaying the events of the past few days, both of her parents' eyebrows were raised. Mr. Grant had chuckled a few times and Mrs. Grant gasped frequently.

"Why, the nerve of Miss Caroline Bingley! What a wicked woman!" Her mother exclaimed, slapping the edge of the table with her handkerchief.

"Quite…" Her father said quietly, seeming deep in thought.

Eleanor knew, or thought she knew, what was on his mind. "Father, if you are thinking of Mr. Darcy now, I'd advise you to stop. I truly hope I never see anyone from that house ever again. I'm sorry to say that includes Mr. Bingley if it meant I'd have to see his sisters again."

Her father waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, please, Ellie. I'm not thinking of Mr. Darcy. I'm thinking of how best we can publicly shame Miss Bingley. Perhaps we should send her a dirty pair of stockings and say it's from a suitor."

Mrs. Grant laughed loudly then covered her mouth, going red in the face. Eleanor couldn't help but laugh as well.

"Please, father. We have no need of shaming her for I believe she does that perfectly well on her own."

Mr. Grant smiled at his wife and daughter. "Of course she does. Though I can't help but notice this contempt stems from her lust for Mr. Darcy."

Mrs. Grant blushed in shock, still recovering from her laughter. "Mr. Grant!"

"Sorry, I'm sorry. But it's true. Perhaps if he were not in the picture you could have been friends."

Eleanor thought about it. Certainly, every time Caroline Bingley had something negative to say, it was related to Mr. Darcy. "That actually seems logical."

"I've been known to say some logical things."

Eleanor decided then that if she ever saw Caroline Bingley again, she would remain civil. Her pride had been mortally wounded and her ego bruised by the woman, but Eleanor had never been the type of girl who let men come between her and another. That was simply one of her assumed core values of femininity.

"You're right, sir. Well, this has been a lovely conversation, but I am very tired. Will you dismiss me to go to bed without dinner? I long for my own room."

Her mother nodded. "Very well, but you're eating extra in the morning!"

Eleanor stood. "Yes, ma'am." She bid them goodnight and went upstairs.

Immediately upon seeing her bed, Eleanor collapsed onto it. The familiar scent and the welcoming feeling of her own pillows and blankets soon lulled her to sleep, shoes and gown and all.


	12. xii

The following morning Eleanor woke up far too late, and it was nearly noon when one of the maids was fixing her hair. Just as she tugged the last curl into place, Mrs. Cooper opened the door to Eleanor's room.

"There's a gentleman here for you, Miss Grant. Your father's with him in the drawing room."

Eleanor glanced at Cooper in her mirror and nodded. "Thank you, Mrs. Cooper. I'll be down momentarily. You can go, Miss Wilson."

As soon as the maid and housekeeper left, Eleanor broke into a cold sweat. She stood from her vanity and paced around the room. It was Mr. Darcy. It had to be; no other man would be calling on her. She wondered what he could want and what he was talking to her father about. She couldn't think of anything they'd have in common.

Eleanor bit her lip and reached for the door handle, then retracted her hand. She had to go down there, of course, but how? What if her father left her alone? What would she say? What if he was rude? 

Crusoe winded around Eleanor's legs, looking up at her. Eleanor stared back and he blinked.

"You're right," she whispered, imagining what he might be saying: _Go, Ellie, that man isn't worth your presence, but you might as well see what he has to say_. "Okay. Let's go." 

She pulled the door open and went downstairs, Crusoe trailing behind her. 

Eleanor opened the door to the parlor and sure enough, Mr. Grant and Mr. Darcy were seated inside. She stood in the doorway silently, both men staring at her. 

Mr. Grant cleared his throat and stood. "Hello, Eleanor. Mr. Darcy would like to speak with you. I'll see you shortly." He stepped past his daughter, gave her a look, then shut the door swiftly behind him. 

Eleanor walked over to a sofa and sat across from Mr. Darcy, forcing a smile in his direction. He did not smile.

"Good morning, Mr. Darcy." Crusoe laid on the ground near her feet.

Mr. Darcy said nothing for a few moments, and Eleanor stared him down, trying not to make it obvious how nervous she felt. She thought about how this was definitely one of her worst encounters, with anyone, to date.

Suddenly Darcy grabbed a stack of papers off the table near him and held them up. "You left this at Netherfield."

Eleanor's eyes widened. It was her folios containing all the work she'd done on her novel so far. She couldn't believe she'd been so careless. She reached out to grab them, but Darcy set them back down.

"...Thank you, Mr. Darcy," Eleanor said curiously, eyeing the papers on the table. She figured it would be rude to reach over and take them, even if they were hers.

"I know it isn't my place, but I read through some of them. Is this your work?"

Ellie stuttered. "Well, yes, it is my work. Though I have been inspired by others."

"You have quite the way with words, Miss Grant. Your originality I cannot speak for, but one's private writings often reveal truths about them."

"Indeed?" Eleanor said breathily. "What truth was revealed about me?"

"I believe you have an inclination for dramatic romance and an affinity for the word 'odd'."

Eleanor couldn't help but laugh. "Well, those are both true! You mention private writings, Mr. Darcy. Do you write yourself?"

"Nothing of the fictional variety, I'm afraid." There was a beat. "But I doubt I could come up with anything like that." He gathered the papers from the table and handed them off to Eleanor.

"Oh! Thank you, I believe." She eyed Darcy curiously, afraid that he would have something else to say that would render his compliment void.

"There is no point in not pointing out talent. In any case, I have remained here far too long. I only wished to bring you your writing." Darcy stood and bowed, and Eleanor quickly stood up alongside him.

"Mr. Darcy, wait! I mean, I must ask you. Do you enjoy honey?"

Eleanor could not think why she wanted to keep him there any longer. Actually, that was a lie, and even she could admit that to herself. She knew entirely why she wanted to keep him longer. She enjoyed his attentions, and could not forget the compliments he'd paid her. And he was devilishly enjoyable to look at.

"I take it in my tea and in scones. How is this relevant, Miss Grant?"

Eleanor suddenly realized that he could have just sent a footman with her writing. He had no reason to come there on his own — except perhaps the fact that he must have wanted to see her. 

"We run a bee farm here at Hunnisett. It would please me greatly if you agreed to try some of our honey. I dare say that it's the best on this half of the countryside."

Darcy seemed a bit surprised, and he failed to respond for several seconds. "Very well. Lead the way, Miss Grant."

Eleanor led him out of the drawing room and into the gardens. "This is quite selfish, but I also would like to know more about what you thought of what I wrote." She bowed her head sheepishly. "I've never even told anyone of it yet."

_annnd... cliffhanger._

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to follow me @castaelia on tumblr!


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